


The case with the missing stamp

by Lisaeleonor



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Case Fic, Dating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 04:25:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18985228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisaeleonor/pseuds/Lisaeleonor
Summary: A rare stamp has gone missing from a bank. A locked room mystery for Sherlock and John.





	1. Chapter 1

When John came home from his morning run he found a rather nervous looking man being ushered from 221B by Sherlock. The man was well dressed in a tailored suit and silk tie. But the suit was wrinkled and the tie has a stain. It looked like he had lived in the clothes for several days. The man himself looked like he hadn’t slept for days. He stepped out on the pavement and turned to face Sherlock who was about to close the door.   
-So we can expect you in the office then? There was a hint of desperation in his voice. John had learned to pick out those small hints in people’s voices during medical school. A certain hitch in a patient’s voice could mean there was something they weren’t telling him. But since he moved in with Sherlock his ability to read people through their voices had grown exponentially.   
\- Just send me all the paperwork and I will see you later. Sherlock on the other hand looked as calm and collected as always. Even though he was only wearing his pyjama bottoms and dressing gown. It bellowed around him when he turned around, ready to close the door. When he saw John on the other side of the street, a hint of a smile appeared on his lips and instead of closing the door he left it open and disappeared into the flat. John walked past the man in the suit, gave him a quick smile and closed the door behind him. He could hear the thump that told him that Sherlock had flung himself on the sofa. Not a very interesting case then. If it was a good one, Sherlock would be too restless to lie down. Instead he would pace the apartment. As suspected, Sherlock was lying on the sofa, eyes closed and hands under his chin when John entered the apartment. His dressing gown had fallen aside, revealing a too thin chest. But John knew better than to tell Sherlock to eat something. Instead he walked straight to the bathroom to take a shower. He was deep in thought about how to write down their latest case on the blog, so he was startled when he heard a voice on the other side of the drape.   
\- What do you know about stamps? Sherlock’s voice came from the doorway. John was sure he had closed it before entering the shower. But Sherlock was never one to bother about privacy and closed doors. And John was so used to his flatmate ignoring all usual social cues that he didn’t even get irritated any more.   
\- They are used as payment for post. They usually have the queen on them. Some people collect them. And I think I have some in my wallet if you need some? John could hear Sherlock’s sigh and knew he was rolling his eyes.   
\- If you tell me what this is about maybe I can tell you something useful, he continued. He could hear Sherlock moving around in the bathroom.   
\- A rare stamp has disappeared from a safe deposit box in the bank of England. Assumed stolen. They want me to find it. John turned off the water and Sherlock’s arm reached in behind the shower curtain with a towel. He was grateful that Sherlock at least let him have that amount of privacy. He knew that all the people that thought him and Sherlock were a couple would talk even more if they knew how Sherlock would talk to John when he was in the shower. Or how he would come and sit on John’s bed when John was going to sleep because he wasn’t finished talking about something. John knew that both he and Sherlock crossed dozen lines each that marked the bounds between friendship and something more. But he couldn’t be bothered. Sherlock was his best friend and their relationship worked. He dried himself and wrapped the towel around him before exiting the shower.   
\- How do you steal something from the Bank of England?   
\- I don’t know, was Sherlock’s answer. He had a twinkle in his eyes that gave John a warm feeling in his stomach, but also made him weary. That twinkle usually meant more experiments and lots of long nights without sleep. 

When John came down from his bedroom newly dressed and heading for the kitchen and the kettle, he saw Sherlock standing at the door. He sighed, knowing that tea and the newspaper had to wait. Instead he headed for the door, following Sherlock out to the street and into a cab.   
\- Where are we going? John asked while looking out through the window. Sherlock was typing on his phone, but glanced up on John. He didn’t answer. Instead he pocketed his phone and looked at John with an urging look.   
\- Bank of England? John guessed. Sherlock nodded with a hint of a smile.   
\- We have an appointment with the branch manager. And I want to see the perimeter as well. The taxi slowed to a stop and they both got out. They were standing in front of a bank office that looked like every other bank office John had been to. There were large glass windows full of posters urging people to borrow money to follow their dreams, and to save so that their children can follow their dreams. As they walked in they were greeted by the man John had seen with Sherlock just a few hours earlier. He had changed his tie but otherwise looked just as rumpled as before.   
-Welcome Mr Holmes, you’re most welcome. And Mr... he trailed off.   
\- Dr Watson, he is my colleague, Sherlock filled in. They were shown into a conference room. There were more people in the room than John anticipated. One older man that John faintly recognised, probably from TV. He guessed that it was the CO of the bank. Bur there were four other people in the room that he didn’t recognise.   
\- Mr Holmes! I’m Martin Jackson, the CO of this bank. Nice to meet you! the man shook Sherlock’s hand, then gestured towards the other people who were sitting down around a large table. They didn’t stand up to shake Sherlock’s and John’s hand. They eyed Sherlock with suspicion, John they ignored.   
\- This is Mr Bryce, his wife, his sister Mrs Gordon and her husband. Mr Jackson pointed out the person attached to the name.   
\- They are the victims of this theft. Sherlock nodded in their direction and sat down in a chair opposite. John took the seat next to him. He could feel Sherlock bouncing his leg, his energy hard to contain. Mr Jackson took a seat at the head of the table and nodded to the man that had shown them in. He quickly exited the room and closed the door behind him. That gave a sense of privacy tough there were large glass windows out to the rest of the bank. They were seen but couldn’t be heard.   
\- This is a rather delicate matter. We have never seen anything like it. Mr Jackson kept on talking.   
\- I’m relying on your discretion Mr Holmes, your brother recommended you. Sherlock nodded but didn’t say anything. That Mycroft pushed cases in Sherlock’s direction was nothing new.   
\- The late Mr Bryce, Mr Bryce and Mrs Gordon’s father, used our bank for most of his affairs. More specifically, he held a safe deposit box for his stamp collection. Mr Jackson was interrupted by Mr Bryce.   
\- When our father died a couple of weeks ago, I and Maggie inherited all our fathers’ belongings. We were about to do an inventory and that’s when we noticed the theft. John was surprised that it was Mr Bryce that spook for the siblings. He looked uncomfortable, almost shy.   
\- Are you sure there has been a theft? Could your father not just have sold whatever it is that is missing? Sherlock sounded bored. He was leaning back, arms folded over his chest. Mr Bryce blushed   
\- Of course we are! But before he could say anything else his sister stepped in.   
\- Mr Holmes. She was still ignoring John, which was fine with him. That gave him time to sit and observe the people in the room. He felt a strong dislike towards Mrs Gordon, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. She reminded him of Harry.   
\- There is one stamp missing, the rarest one in our father’s collection. It’s a post office from Mauritius. There are only 13 like it in the world. If it would have been sold, we would have heard about it. Sherlock leaned forward   
\- So if not stolen and sold, could your father have given it to someone? Or stored it somewhere else? Mr Jackson stiffened in his chair but it was Mrs Gordon who answered.   
\- He left his whole collection to us, his children. It’s written in his will. And all the other stamps are in the deposit box. She smiles a quick smile.   
\- We are as sure as we can be that our father places this stamp with his others. Sherlock leaned back in his chair again, he met John’s eyes. He looked pleased, not a very appropriate feeling. John had never collected anything, more than football cards when he was young. But he guessed that the stamp was worth more money than he would ever se.   
\- Do you have any idea when the theft occurred? Mr Jackson looked surprised at John, like he had forgotten that he was there.   
\- No, not really he cleared his throat.   
\- Mr Bryce the older last opened his safe deposit box six months ago, since then we have no record of anyone trying to access it. John nodded to show that he understood. He could see why Sherlock was pleased. It was almost like a locked room mystery.   
\- I asked your assistant to send me all the records and surveillance concerning this case. I’m hoping he has started? Sherlock rose from his seat. The others looked surprised at him as he strode out of the room. John rose slowly and smiled at their stunned faces.   
\- It there anything else we need to know? Mr Jackson started to shake his head but Mr Bryce spoke up.   
\- I and my wife are hosting a dinner party tomorrow night at eight. If you want to talk to people that we suspect. John looked at him with a question in his eyes.  
\- Well it has to have been someone close to father. And we have invited all of our family and father's old associates. Mrs Gordon kept quit so John assumed she agreed.   
\- We will be there, he answered and then followed Sherlock out of the room. He was standing outside the bank, back leaning against the large windows typing away on his phone.   
\- We were invited to a dinner party tomorrow, John said. Sherlock glanced up quickly from his phone.   
\- Tell me why we want to spend more time in the presence of those people? They were so utterly boring. John just looked at Sherlock for a while before he sighed and continued.   
\- As apparent from the sisters jewellery, she is in serious dept. Probably due to alcohol since her hands were trembling. She is trying to drown out the fact that her husband is not so secretly gay and screwing her brother.   
-What? John said, stunned. He never could shake the feeling that he and Sherlock lived in different realities.   
\- Didn’t you see the looks they were giving each other? Sherlock sounded both surprised and disappointed.   
\- You’re usually quite well with touchy feely stuff. He looked up from his phone but didn’t stop typing.   
\- How come you noticed? Touchy feely stuff as you put it isn’t your strong suit.  
\- Maybe I’ve practices. Sherlock pocketed his phone and raised and hand to hail a cab, his cheeks slightly pink. They spent the drive home in silence.


	2. Chapter 2

When John came down for breakfast the next morning the living room was filled with boxes. Sherlock was sitting on the floor, resting his back against the sofa and raftering through a box. He only gave John a short glance when he walked past to the kitchen. John could see that he was still in his dress trousers and shirt he had worn the previous day. Sherlock had spent the previous evening pacing the living room, frustrated that it took the bank so long to gather up the surveillance and bring it to Baker Street.  
\- They want to make sure there’s nothing on the films that we’re not supposed to see. If someone mixed with the tapes they could be useless to us, he said. John was quiet. He had learned that is was the best approach when Sherlock was like this. He had tried to watch some TV but Sherlock had told him the end halfway through the movie so he went to bed early. The boxes must have arrived later in the evening; it looked like Sherlock had been reading for a while. There were papers scattered around him in various piles. John made two cups of tea and some toast. He put one cup and a piece of toast next to Sherlock, but the other cup and the rest of the toast on his desk, sat down and faced Sherlock.  
\- Where should I start? Sherlock drank some of the tea, made a face when it was too hot and motioned in the general direction of the windows.  
\- Any box will do. I haven’t gotten to the films yet but it seems that the bank saves records of visits to the safe deposit boxes for five years but I only asked for the last year’s records. They only save the films for six months. See if you can find Mr Bryce name somewhere or if anything else looks suspicious. John sighed at the sheer boredom of the task, but he opened a box and put some papers in front of him and started to read. There was nothing else to it. Most of the papers where logs from the door to the safe deposit room. Every client had a personal security card to access the room. John eyed the list after Mr Bryce or his children but didn’t find much. He sensed Sherlock had as much luck. He had started pacing the room. After two hours of reading John could tell that Mr Bryce didn’t acess his deposit box that often, and that it looked like he hadn’t visited it for the last six months of his life. To get a break, he told Sherlock he needed to do some shopping. He was roaming the isles of tesco's, not wanting to go home too soon. He got a text from Sherlock when he had finally finished his shopping and was heading home “I got an idea, going out” was the message. “Don’t forget dinner tonight” John replied but he didn’t get an answer. But on hour before they needed to leave for the dinner party Sherlock returned. He didn’t say a word to John, just disappeared into his room. He emerged forty minutes later dressed in a black suit and red shirt. His face looked like he was going to his execution. Without saying a word, he took his coat and opened the door. He left it open for John as he descended the stairs. John himself wasn’t particularly looking forward to the evening, and it would be even more dull if Sherlock was sulking the whole time.  
Mrs Bryce welcomed John and Sherlock when they arrived at the party. She was dressed in a purple dress that looked expensive and had a diamond necklace round her neck.  
\- A fake diamond, Sherlock whispered.  
\- She properly sold the real one to pay for her debts.She pulled them aside and whispered  
\- we told everyone that you are friends of ours and that you are romantically involved. We can’t tell anyone the truth and it’s politically correct these days to have gay friends you know. Sherlock pressed his lips together to a thin line but he didn’t say anything. John wasn’t sure what bothered him the most, the woman’s statement that was far from politically correct or the fact that he was going to spend the night pretending to be in love with Sherlock Holmes.  
John had stepped away to get some peace and quiet, and to gather his thoughts. He had tried all evening to figure out if anyone of the guests had a motive to steal a rare stamp. But so many of the guest came off as fake to him so he wasn’t sure if they were just hiding ordinary things that everyone did, or if they hid a secret theft. And he had found it hard to concentrate with Sherlock playing the ever so attentive boyfriend. He couldn’t understand why it rubbed him the wrong way when Sherlock was holding his hand or calling him darling. After some time acclimatizing he had done the same. And also found that he and Sherlock was a perfect fake couple. Still, he was agitated and needed to get away from his partner. He walked around the house and leaned against the brick wall. Maybe he just had too much alcohol and too little sleep. If he could just stand there in the relative quietness for a couple of minutes, he would be fine. John could hear steps in the gravel and looked up. He could just se the silouette of Sherlock standing a few feet away, hands in his pockets.  
\- Do you think anyone in there did it? John asked before Sherlock had a chance to say anything. Sherlock shrugged  
\- I’m not sure. I’ll need to process some things first. He sounded tired and John was reminded how Sherlock loathed these kinds of events. Too many people to deduce, too many inputs. If John felt his head was full, he could only imagine how Sherlock was feeling. Sherlock walked closer, still hands in his pockets. John assumed he was going to mimic Johns pose with his back against the wall so he closed his eyes again. In the distans he could hear classical music drifting from inside. He opened them again when Sherlock’s shoes scraped against his own. Sherlock was standing close, very close. Their toes were touching, Sherlock was looming over him, one hand on the wall to steady him. John could feel his pulse quicken. Sure that Sherlock didn’t bother with personal space, but this was something new. But not unpleasant. It felt safe and exiting at the same time. John met Sherlock’s eyes. It was hard to see in the darkness but he looked worried. And it looked like he was searching John’s face for something, some answer.  
\- Is this okay? he whispered, John could feel his breath on his face. He swallowed  
\- Is this part of the act? he asked, nervous about the answer. Was this one of Sherlock’s mind games, was someone watching them and he was playing his part, of was this the real Sherlock? -Yes. Sherlock said, not missing a beat. John felt like he had gotten a bucket of ice thrown at him. The safe feeling he had a moment ago was gone.  
\- Then no. he said, pushing Sherlock aside and returned to the party.  
John didn’t know why he was so angry with Sherlock but he was. He was more than angry, he was infuriating. What kind of game was he playing? John wanted no part of it. He felt like he had been tested and he didn’t know if he had passed the test or failed miserably. Sherlock was his normal self (as normal as he could be when faking to be John's boyfriend), but he called for a cab quit early on to Johns relief.  
\- Well, that was tedious, Sherlock said when they settled into the cab. John didn’t reply, Sherlock continued anyway.  
\- A whole evening wasted listening to people gossip. I can only see one or two who even had the mental capacity to pull off a theft like this. Sherlock started ticking things of his fingers.  
\- First the sister. She is heavily in debt and need the money. When she is sober she seems bright enough to pull this off. She didn’t know her father was going to die so soon and she felt she couldn’t wait for the inheritance.  
\- What about the brother? John intervened.  
\- What about him? John just sighted as an answer, Sherlock took the hint and continued.  
\- You mean if he needed the money to run away with his lover? Sherlock couldn’t hide a bit of distaste at the word lover.  
\- mhm, John murmured.  
\- It’s not money that’s holding them back, the brother has money. You saw his cufflinks? They were new, you don’t buy anything like that if you’re low on funds. Sherlock gave John that look that said “You knew that”. It usually just rubbed John the wrong way but tonight he had to close his fists since the urge to punch Sherlock was strong.  
\- What’s stopping them then? If you know everything? Sherlock rolled his eyes  
\- Obviously, it’s shame. Sherlock held John's gaze but he was feed up with Sherlock’s mind games and looked away. Staring out of the window and didn’t say another word as the cab took them home. He went straight to the kitchen when they got home. His plan was a cup of tea to calm himself down and then bed. At the corner of his eye he could see Sherlock standing in the doorway. He could feel it as well. It seemed that John couldn’t get too far away from Sherlock this evening. Though the safe distance and kitchen table between them, John felt it like Sherlock was standing next to him, towering over him. He really needed to get away to the relative safety of his room.  
\- Out with it. Sherlock startled him so he almost dropped the milk. Some splashed on the countertop.  
\- What?  
\- Out with it, whatever it is that is making you stomp around like a grumpy child. John’s hands grabbed the countertop so hard his knuckles went white. He took some deep breaths, trying to steady himself. He knew it was pointless saying that nothing was wrong. Sherlock was bad at picking up on other people’s emotions but he wasn’t blind. And it was like he had grown a sixth sense concerning John. Deducing him so easily it sometimes felt like he was reading John’s mind.  
\- I don’t want to talk about it. He unclenched his fingers trying to finish making his tea.  
\- Something is bothering you. You started acting strange after I asked if I could kiss you. Sherlock spoke matter of factly but John knew he couldn’t reply in the same manner. Maybe he was overreacting but he felt entitled to, the way Sherlock treated him sometimes.  
\- Just forget about it, he said.  
\- When people say forget it, it usually means they won’t, Sherlock started but John couldn’t take it anymore  
\- just bloody do as I ask for once and just forget about it! he shouted. Sherlock looked surprised, he hadn’t realised how upset John was. It gave John a hint of satisfaction. It wasn’t often he could surprise Sherlock.  
\- What made you so upset? Sherlock asked a hint of concern in his voice. That made some of the anger seep out of John. He let out a long breath of air before he spoke  
\- I don’t know Sherlock. Can you please just let me be and let me sleep? Sherlock glared at him  
\- Well, that’s not a very helpful answer, he snapped then disappearing into the living room. John stood for a moment looking puzzled at the empty doorway. Then he turned, looking at his failed attempt of tea. There was a teabag swimming in some milk, there was more milk on the countertop, he wasn’t even sure he put the kettle on. With a big exhale, he put the cup in the sink, the milk in the fridge and went up to his bedroom. Now when he calmed down a bit he could admit that it wasn’t only the fact that Sherlock tried to kiss him (or tried to find out if John wanted Sherlock to kiss him? He wasn’t sure) that made him angry. It was also the fact that he didn’t follow through. That made John angry ‘because it made him scared. What was that about? He didn’t want Sherlock to kiss him. He wasn’t in love with Sherlock. Still, he couldn’t deny that he had felt disappointed when Sherlock had said it was just an act. He couldn’t either deny that Sherlock was an attractive man, John wasn’t blind. Maybe he just got caught up in the moment. Maybe it wasn’t Sherlock he had been attracted to; maybe it was just the moment itself? That thought comforted John. He put his pyjamas on, and then sneaked down to the bathroom. Sherlock was stretched out on the sofa, his eyes closed and hands clasp under his chin. John felt quite relieved he didn’t have to speak any more to Sherlock this evening. Back in bed, he tried to finish some more pages in his novel but his thoughts just strayed. He put down his book and had just put out the light when he heard footsteps in the stair. He laid motionless, listening to Sherlock slowly making his way towards John’s room. He seemed to hesitate outside John’s door. He could see Sherlock’s shadow in the crack between the door and the floor. After a few moments, there was a knock on the door then Sherlock popped his head in  
\- Are you still angry? he asked. John shocks his head, and then realised Sherlock couldn’t see him in the dark room.  
\- No, are you? he could hear a chuckle from the door, then Sherlock slipped in and closed the door behind him, the room went pitch black. John could hear Sherlock moving cautiously towards the bed. He moved as Sherlock found the bed and climbed into it. Sherlock moved up so he could lean his back against the headboard.  
\- I... Sherlock sighted. He was quiet for a moment longer, and then started the monologue John was waiting for.  
\- The thing that bothers me the most is why you would steal something that is so hard to sell. You need to have a buyer ready; otherwise the theft could be for nothing. And then there is the money. I went to a collector and asked about the stamp. If you put that amount of money into a British account the bank would want papers as to where the money came from. So you need to set up an offshore account that’s not directly connected to you. It’s not as hard as it might sound but still, it takes some work. So we have a thief who plans ahead, who is connected, what else? What am I missing? John didn’t bother answering; he knew Sherlock wasn’t expecting it. He felt himself relaxing, sleep creeping up on him.  
\- We have to go through the security footage first thing in the morning John, se if anything feels odd. John murmured an answer, then he fell asleep while Sherlock’s voice washed over him like one of those tapes with ocean sounds.


	3. Chapter 3

John woke by the sounds of the violin. Sherlock was playing one of his own pieces. It was a bit dark for John’s taste, not on of his favourites. But Sherlock preferred dark and dramatic when he was thinking. He only stopped playing when John put a cup of tea in front of him.  
\- Do you ever sleep? John asked, Sherlock shrugged.  
\- It’s only transport, you know that. John knew so he didn’t pursuit the topic. Even though he could see dark circles under Sherlock’s eyes. He sat down in his chair sipping his tea. He looked on while Sherlock put the violin down in it’s case, sitting down opposite John. Sherlock put his hands together, resting his fingers against his mouth. John reached for the newspaper, hoping Sherlock would be preoccupied with his thoughts for a while. But he had only read the sports section when Sherlock rose, going over to the tv and putting a dvd in.  
\- Come on over John. We need to see if we can find anything new in the surveillance. I’m stuck, I don’t like being stuck. John sighted but he folded his paper and watched the tv instead. They had gotten the footage from the three cameras in the room of the safe deposit boxes. Sherlock had chosen to start with the one that filmed the entrance, the date was six months ago. They sat in silence watching as people came and went. John was bored after five minutes and after half an hour he was ready to cry of boredom.  
\- It’s going to take us forever to watch all of this.  
\- 26280 hours. Sherlock said, then continued when he saw the look on John's face.  
\- There are 365 days to a year, they have the surveillance on 24 hours every day. 24 times 365 is 8760. Times three because we have three surveillance cameras, that’s 26280 hours. Johns head was spinning a bit from the numbers.  
\- Did you do that math in your head? He asked. Sherlock rolled his eyes as an answer.  
\- The manager said Mr Bryce hadn’t been to his box the last six months and the paper records say the same. This is the date Mr Bryce supposedly visited his box for the last time. Sherlock sounded like he was explaining for a child and John wasn’t blaming him. He had been slow realizing it was an impossible task watching all of the surveillance.  
\- Well, I’m making lunch. He said, standing up. He didn’t bother asking Sherlock if he wanted. His experience said that if Sherlock had a choice he would say no. But if John just put food in front of him he would usually eat. And then there was always icecream. Sherlock never said no to ice cream, no matter how wrapped up in a case he was. One time they had been on a stakeout for several days, and Sherlock refused to take time off to eat. So John had gone to the nearest tescos and bought a pair of halfpints of ice cream and a couple of spoons. Then they had been sitting behind a dumpster eating ice cream. John made two tuna sandwiches and went back to Sherlock. To John's surprise, Sherlock reached for the sandwich. When he gave it to Sherlock he accidentally brushed against Sherlock's fingers. When they touched an electric bolt shot out from John's fingers throughout his body. He quickly let go of the sandwich and sat down on the sofa, a bit further away from Sherlock than before. They ate in silence while Sherlock fast forward as soon as there was an empty screen. They both sat up straight when they saw Mr Bryce the older on the tv. The siblings had provided them with a photograph and he had an elaborate mustache that was easily recognized. Mr Bryce walked into the room, seemingly heading towards his box. About fifteen minutes later they could see him walking out of the room. As soon as Mr Bryce was out of the picture Sherlock was out of the sofa. He looked through the other dvds, putting another one in the player and sat down. The date on this surveillance photo was the same as the previous one but from a different angle. They couldn’t see more than a bit of Mr Bryce jacket at this angle. Sherlock rose again and found another dvd. This was yet another angle, here they could watch Mr Bryce walk past and then walk back a few minutes later. John felt a bit deflated. There was nothing special with Mr Bryce visit as far as he could se. And the angle was wrong so they couldn’t see what he was doing. John slumped in the sofa, putting his head against the back and closed his eyes. But Sherlock rose, standing in the sofa, then stepped over the back heading for the door.  
\- Hey, where are you going? John rose aswell, but walked around the sofa. Sherlock was putting his coat on, he stopped for a second.  
\- Out, come on John! John had to hurry to keep up. Sherlock was waving down a cab when he exited the apartment. Sherlock got in and hold the door open for John. He said an address to the cabbie that John didn’t recognise. It was in a posh part of town so he had his suspicion, but he still asked.  
\- Where are we going? Sherlock gave him a long look.  
\- Give me your best guess. This was one of Sherlock's usual tests, one that John didn’t mind.  
\- To visit Mrs Gordon? Sherlock smiled, letting John know it was the right answer.  
\- How did you know?  
\- I thought you were likely to visit someone concerning the case, that isn’t many. We have already been to Mr Bryce place and I didn’t recognise the address you gave so I guess Mrs Gordon. John could see that Sherlock was pleased but he didn’t say anything. He stared out the window and by the way his eyes glazed over John could tell he was thinking hard. No point in disturbing him then. He had his own thoughts to keep him occupied, because he had just made a disturbing realization. John had gotten butterflies in his stomach when Sherlock smiled at him. That was not good, not good at all. Was it still some lingering feelings from last night or was this something new? Or was it something old and he was just noticing it now? Either way John found it disturbing. His life was complicated enough without him falling in love with Sherlock. He just had to wait until the feelings died out, which they probably would during the day. He had just been dazzled by the attention and charm that Sherlock used sometimes. He had seen countless men and women succumbing to Sherlock's charm when he chose to use it. This was just the first time they were used on him.  
Mr Gordon opened the door when they rang. He lead them through a hallway into the livingroom. Mrs Gordon was already there. It surprised John. They hadn’t called ahead, and still it seemed like they were expected. John greeted Mrs Bryce and sat down in a sofa opposite the armchair she was seated in. Sherlock strode over to the mantelpiece. There were a few pictures standing there and Sherlock seemed to take a closer look.  
\- Do you have any news for us? Mrs Gordon asked. John glanced at Sherlock but it seemed like he hadn’t heard.  
\- Well no, we... He was interrupted by Sherlock.  
\- Who is the other woman in the photo? Any relation? Sherlock was holding a picture showing a much younger Mrs Gordon standing next to her father, on the other side of Mr Bryce was another woman approximately the same age as Mrs Gordon. Mr Bryce was holding a stamp in an album and they were all smiling.  
\- Oh no, thats Janice, Janice Williams. She is a childhood friend but she could just aswell be my sister. Our parents were friends so we grew up together. We had so much fun. She was the only one who had the patience to listen to my father’s ramblings about his stamps. Sherlock put the photo back on the mantelpiece then strode out of the room.  
\- John! Could be heard down the hall. John said some excuses and half walked, half ran after Sherlock. He had seen that look on Sherlock's face before and he knew it was likely Sherlock went without him if he didn’t hurry. Sherlock was already waving down a cab and getting in when John exited the house.  
\- Where are we going? John asked when the cab started to move.  
\- Shush John I’m thinking! Was the answer he got.  
The cab dropped them off at an apartment building after a drive that took them almost through the whole city. Sherlock jumped out of the cab and was ringing a doorbell before John had paid the fare. He only heard the last of what Sherlock was saying.  
\- I think you want to see me miss Williams. He was buzzed in and John followed Sherlock into the elevator.  
\- Could you explain to me why we are visiting Mrs Gordon's childhood friend? Sherlock was about to step out of the elevator but he stopped and turned around.  
\- Isn’t obvious? He continued walking. John tried not to get angry, but sometimes Sherlock made it so difficult.  
\- It isn’t for me, he said gritting his teeth. Sherlock had stopped in front of a door, he flashed John a smile.  
\- Then you have to listen carefully don’t you? That smile made John's heart skip a beat but he didn’t have time to dwell on that because miss Williams opened the door. John recognized her from the picture though several years had passed. She had quit a distinctive face. She let them into the apartment and into the livingroom. She shooed away a cat that was sleeping in the sofa and sat down. John took the armchair opposite while Sherlock remained standing.  
\- I hope you’re not allergic? I know I’m living up to the stereotype of a spinster with a cat. But it’s nice with some company. John smiled in response.  
\- I think you know why we’re here, Sherlock said. Miss Williams shoulders dropped.  
\- I guess I do, Marge said she and Thomas had hired a private detective to find something missing from their father's possessions. John looked puzzled at Sherlock who couldn’t hide his smile.  
\- She has the stamp!  
\- What?! John exclaimed, looking at both Sherlock and miss Williams.  
\- Do you want to explain? Sherlock asked uncharacteristically. Usually he would just tell everyone his deductions. Miss Williams took a deep breath before she opened her mouth.  
\- Bill, Mr Bryce, was my father.  
\- It was obvious from the photo we saw earlier, the similarities was striking. Same nose, same mouth, Sherlock intervened. Miss Williams didn’t seem to mind.  
\- Well, It’s not been as obvious for everyone else. I have known who my father was since my teens. But it’s been a secret for everyone else. On the outside it just looked like a man being extra nice to his daughter's friend. Miss Williams smiled but she looked sad and John thought it can’t have been easy living with that secret your whole life.  
\- He passed on his interest in stamps to you? He asked. Miss Williams smile got a bit more genuine.  
\- The others were never interested but I loved it. That’s why... She trailed of.  
\- That’s why he gave it to you, Sherlock filled in. Miss Williams nodded. Sherlock looked at John.  
\- It was clear from the cctv footage that Mr Bryce had done something special that last time he was in the bank. You could see him walk in with purpose, his stride long. He was calmer when he walked out. He had done what he set out to do: getting the stamp. Miss Williams nodded.  
\- He knew he was getting older and he wanted to set things right. He came to me a while back with this stamp, the post office. And he told me he wanted to tell his family about me, he wanted to include me in his will. He wanted me to have all of his stamps since I was the only one of his children who collected. But he didn’t expect to die so soon and now I don’t know what to do. She sobbed and John reached out to pat her knee.  
\- I know they are talking about theft but he gave it to me. You believe me, right?   
\- Sure we do, Sherlock answered. John smiled in a reassuring way.   
\- Do you know why you weren’t in the will? Sherlock continued. Miss Williams shook her head.   
\- He said he had written a new will when he gave me this stamp. That the one thing left was to tell his other children, but he kept putting that off. When he died I waited to be called to the reading of the will but that didn’t happened. I don’t know what to believe.  
\- I think I do Sherlock said and smiled.   
\- We’ll be in touch, he said and once again strode to the door. John felt finished with following Sherlock blind.   
\- It’s time to contact Lestrade, Sherlock said as the waited for the elevator to descend.   
\- Because someone has forged a will, and I’m pretty sure who it is.   
\- Who? John asked.   
\- Who has most to lose with a new will that introduces another heir? Sherlock asked, looking at John with a look that said he was being slow.  
\- Mrs Gordon? He asked, Sherlock just smiled.   
\- correct! Now we just leave it to Lestrade to find the evidence.


	4. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter doesn't add more to the case, just a little Johnlock to tie it all together :)

John was sitting in his armchair when Sherlock came home. He looked worn out. It had been a strange case, luring Sherlock in with the promise of a locked room mystery just to end up being just another family feud. And now Sherlock had been with Lestrade arresting Mrs Gordon for forgery. Telling Mr Bryce that there had been no theft that the stamp had been given as an early inheritance to a sister he didn’t knew he had. And that his sister that he knew about had known and tried to hide it. Lestrade had asked some of his detectives if they could look into Mr Bryce senior’s death just to be sure Mrs Gordon didn’t help her father along to get the money.  
\- How did it go? John asked, closing his book.  
\- As you would expect, caring is not an advantage, Sherlock said and leaned against the wall. John picked up his book again, thinking the conversation was over.  
\- John. Sherlock had closed his eyes as well.  
\- I need you to tell me what made you upset the other night. He opened his eyes when John didn’t answer.  
\- So you know how your experiment went? He asked sourly.  
\- Please, Sherlock said. He looked honest as far as John could tell.  
\- Only if you tell me why you did it. Sherlock seemed to think for a moment. Then he nodded.  
\- But you go first. John didn’t fight him about that. He didn’t like the idea of telling Sherlock about his feelings the last couple of days but he knew when he was beaten. If Sherlock said please there was no way he was letting this go.  
\- First of all I don’t like it when you conduct your experiments on me. I’m your friend, not your lab rat. John took a deep breath that was the easy part. Sherlock was still standing at the door leaning against the wall, his eyes closed. He showed no sign of hearing John.  
\- The second thing is that... hm... You got to me. Sherlock opened his eyes and fixed his gaze on  
John.  
\- Got you how? John rolled his eyes.  
\- You know how, don’t make me say it. Sherlock shook his head but John didn’t budge.  
\- I don’t believe you couldn’t see what I was feeling. Sherlock continued to shake his head.  
\- I don’t trust my observations. He said quietly, straightening up.  
\- Why would the great Sherlock Holmes doubt his senses? John taunted. Sherlock frowned.  
\- Sentiment, he said. Almost spitting out the word. John raised his eyebrows in a question. Sherlock took a deep breath then continued in a voice void of almost all emotion.  
\- I love you.  
\- I love... John started answering, and then he saw something in Sherlock’s eyes.  
\- Wait, you men love? Like lovelove? Sherlock rolled his eyes.  
\- Yes John, I lovelove you, he said sarcastically. It was the first time John had someone confess their love for him one second and then calling him stupid in the other.  
\- Well... hm... Why haven’t you said anything? Sherlock shrugged his shoulders.  
\- I was coping.  
\- Coping? Is it that hard loving me? John tried to make his question into a joke but failed. He could see anger flare up in Sherlock’s eyes.  
\- Well you don’t love me back do you? He spat.  
\- I was dealing with it and I was doing fine. John felt dumbstruck. Both by Sherlock’s words and his anger, Sherlock rarely showed anger.  
-okay, okay, then what was the other night about?  
\- I slipped up, sorry about that. John opened his mouth but couldn’t find an answer.  
\- So I need you know John. Did you get angry because I tried to kiss you or because I said it was a game? Were you disappointed? Sherlock stepped a bit closer, his gaze burned into John. He could feel heat rising on his cheeks.  
\- I... I don’t know. I think I was disappointed but... he raised his voice a bit. He didn’t want to say things to Sherlock that got his hopes up.  
\- You are, well you are an attractive man. I think a stone would be affected if you looked at it the way you looked at me. Sherlock gave John a weak smile.  
\- So you’re saying you wanted me to kiss you but it wasn’t because of any romantic feelings towards me, it was my looks?  
\- You do look good you know. Sherlock laughed as John had hoped.  
\- Honestly Sherlock, I don’t know. Sherlock went out into the kitchen and sat down at his microscope. John took that as a sign that the conversation was over. He didn’t see from his vantage point if there even was a slide under the lens but he recognized Sherlock’s “leave me alone” pose well enough. He looked down at his book, knowing he would not be able to read more tonight. He went for the door instead.  
\- I’m going for a walk. He said. Sherlock didn’t reply. The air was cool when John stepped out onto the pavement, rain hung in the air. He took a deep breath, feeling like he hadn’t taken a proper breath since Sherlock came home. His thoughts kept on spinning. Sherlock loved him, was in love with him. And had been for a while by the sounds of it. And John was... flattered, he had to admit. Even he who had never looked at men like that could see that Sherlock was attractive. And it was nice having someone wanting you. But he didn’t think he wanted Sherlock to want him. Even though he had felt things these few days, he was pretty sure those feelings would abide. Even if they didn’t, did he want a relationship with Sherlock? A relationship that involved cuddles and kisses and sex. John stopped dead in his tracks by the thought. Sex with Sherlock was a thought that made him equal parts terrified and aroused. He was in trouble.  
Over the following weeks Sherlock acted like nothing had happened and John took the cue. It felt strange going on cases, watching TV, eating dinner, acting like nothing was different. Sherlock acted so normal he made John think he had dreamt the whole thing. The only thing he could say for certain was that he was different. Sherlock had planted an idea in John's head and it grew. More and more of his thoughts was filled with Sherlock. Wondering how it would be like kissing Sherlock, touching him. How would it be being close to him? Sherlock was all angles, bone and hard muscle. Nothing John usually found attractive and still. Sometimes his hands would itch from the yearning of pulling them through Sherlock’s hair. Would Sherlock be as bossy in bed as he was in everyday life? John thought about previous lovers that had gotten soft in his arms, would Sherlock do that? John was driving himself crazy with all his questions. Until one day when he had enough. He couldn’t go round thinking more; he was a man of action. He picked up his courage and went to Sherlock who was sitting at his microscope. John stood in front of Sherlock waiting for him to acknowledge John's presence, that didn’t happen.  
\- Sherlock, John tried. He got a murmur for an answer.  
\- I was wondering if you would like to go on a date with me? John felt silly, like he was fifteen years old. But after much consideration he had come up with the date-idea. It was either that or ambushing Sherlock and surprising him with a kiss. And that could set things in motion that John wasn’t prepared for.  
\- A date? Sherlock finally looked up, his face was blank.  
\- Yes, I was thinking we could go to that new Italian place down the street? Sherlock still looked at him like he was talking a foreign language and John was beginning to regret his question.  
\- You mean a real date? Sherlock sounded like he was asking about the weather but John could hear the hope in his voice.  
\- Yeah, you know: food, drink, talk, candles at the table, maybe a kiss at the end if the date is going well. John felt he was talking too much and too fast but he really wanted Sherlock to say yes.  
\- I have never been on a date, Sherlock said.  
\- Okay, do you want to go on one with me?  
\- Is this just to humour me? Are you feeling sorry for me?  
\- I’m feeling a bit sorry that you’ve not been on a date before but I didn’t know that when I asked. Sherlock looked at John for a moment before he nodded, relief flooded John’s body.  
\- So, tomorrow at eight? He asked. Sherlock nodded again and John left the kitchen, trying to hide his smile.  
John dressed with care the following night. It felt strange to dress up for someone who saw you in your pyjamas now and then. But he still chose a pullover Sarah had bought him because she said it looked good on him. It was a fifteen minute walk to the restaurant and John was ready and walked down to the living room at twenty to eight. Sherlock was sitting in the sofa but rose when John walked in. John could feel the butterflies in his stomach, it was clear that Sherlock also dressed for the occasion in the purple shirt that always made John's eyes linger. Even before this whole business, did Sherlock know that? Highly likely John thought. He tried to act calm through the nerves and smiled at Sherlock.  
\- You look nice, he said. Sherlock looked down in his body like he had forgotten what he was wearing.  
\- Thanks, I took your favourite. Question answered John thought while he put his jacket on. Sherlock did the same and they went out in silence. The silence stretched as they walked down the street. John tried to find something to say but his mind was blank. Sherlock seemed just as lost for words, or maybe he was calm with the silence.  
\- I don’t know what to talk about. I already know what you do in your spare time, or what your favourite TV-show is. John looked surprised at Sherlock.  
\- Did you Google things to talk about on a first date? Sherlock rolled his eyes.  
\- Of course I did. I don’t have your experience. John opened his mouth to disagree but closed it again. He was experienced compared to Sherlock.  
\- How come you haven’t been on any dates? Haven’t you been curious?  
\- I haven’t. I don’t see why I should sit and do Smalltalk with a stranger just so we might have sex afterwards. John could see Sherlock’s logic, but it raised more questions.  
\- If you don’t have any experience in dating, does that mean you don’t have much experience in...? You know... Sherlock looked at John with a look of humour.  
\- Are you trying to ask me if I’ve had sex? Is that really a question for a first date? John blushed.  
\- Well no, but this is not an ordinary first date. And yes, I’m wondering if you have had sex. Sherlock smiled a bit, looking forward.  
\- Yes, I’ve had sex, with men and women. But only while I was using. And before you go all doctor on me, I’ve taken the entire test since I got clean. John kept silence. He didn’t know what he had expected, but he was surprised. Luckily they arrived at the restaurant a moment later. When they were seated Sherlock started to deduce the other guests and the conversation was effortless after that. John was reminded of how nice it was to spent time with Sherlock when there wasn’t a case to distract them. He was surprised to find that they soon were the only two guests left, time flew. He took the bill and Sherlock didn’t argue. He had probably read up on etiquette on a first date. They decided to walk home as well. John felt it was a chance to clean his head. He had a lovely evening and he didn’t want it to be over just yet.  
\- If we didn’t live together, I would ask you if you want to come up for tea. John smiled at Sherlock who looked a bit concerned.  
\- Isn’t that a code for sex? You only mentioned kisses before. John had to stop; he took Sherlock’s hand to make him stop as well. Then he let go because it felt too familiar, but he regretted it as soon as he let go.  
\- Sherlock, you must know I won’t do anything to you that you don’t want to. And I expect the same treatment from you.  
\- John, I’ve already told you, I want all of you. It’s you that need to make up your mind. With those words Sherlock continued walking and John had to run to keep up. They walked in silence the rest of the way home. John was mentally kicking himself, he felt like he had messed up. He wasn’t sure about much these days, but he was sure he didn’t want to mess this up. He didn’t want to hurt Sherlock. He was still thinking about what to do when they entered the apartment. Sherlock took of his coat and headed for the living room. Then he stopped and turned around.  
\- What happens now John? You said there was usually kisses after a good date, was this a good date? John felt an overwhelming feeling of affection for Sherlock. This man who claimed to be a sociopath to keep people away showed himself so vulnerable to John. He felt it was an honour. He stepped forward, reached up and put his hands on either side of Sherlock’s face and kissed him soft on the lips. He could feel his heart race, feel his body aching for more. But he tried to steady himself, tried to savour the moment. Sherlock stood still, frozen, but he couldn’t hide the tremble that ran through his body. It made John want to hug him. So he ended the kiss and folded his arms around Sherlock. Now he could feel Sherlock’s heart beating against his own. Sherlock’s hands were gripping the back of John’s shirt, his forehead rested on John's shoulder. They stood so for a while, none of them seemed eager to move. Then Sherlock released his grip on John.  
\- I think I need to be alone for a while now. He said and John nodded. He could understand that. Felt a bit relieved that Sherlock had made the move.  
\- Do you want to do this again? The date I mean? He asked before Sherlock disappeared.  
\- Yes, I think that would be nice, Sherlock replied.  
-Saturday?  
\- Saturday is fine. Sherlock gave John a hint of a smile before he disappeared into his room and closed the door. They went on three more dates, all initiated by John. Sherlock accepted the invitation, seemed to have a good time and kissed John at the end of the evening. But he didn’t try to take things further, didn’t even try to kiss John with an open mouth. And he always trembled when John was near. It made John uncertain. He was falling for Sherlock, he could not deny it. But Sherlock almost looked like he was falling out of love with John. It made him second guesses everything. After the fourth date he didn’t ask if they were going on another one and Sherlock didn’t seem to notice. Until the next morning when John was sitting in the kitchen reading the morning paper. Sherlock came in and stood by the counter.  
\- Is the dating over now? He asked. John looked up from the paper, surprised by the question.  
\- What do you mean?  
\- You didn’t ask yesterday if we were going on another date. I wonder if that means that you don’t want to date me anymore. Sherlock spoke matter of factly.  
\- No... No it doesn’t mean that, John replied setting the newspaper down.  
\- It just means I am unsure if you still want to date me. John could see that Sherlock was about to object so he continued.  
\- I know what you said. But actions speak louder than words and you don’t seem that interested in taking things further. Sherlock straightened up a bit and when he spoke he sounded angry.  
\- Do you know how hard this has been on me? Being your little experiment so you can find out if you like me or not? John felt a pang of guilt, it was true he was using Sherlock as a labrat.  
\- You say that I don’t want to take things further, how can you be so blind? It’s taking all my willpower when we kiss to not throw you over my shoulder, taking you into my bedroom and not letting you go for days. Sherlock spat the words out. They were words of anger, not of seduction. Still John could feel himself responding.  
\- Well, that, I... He closed his mouth trying to think of a coherent answer.  
\- I love you, was the words that came to mind first. Sherlock eyes him suspiciously.  
\- Lovelove? He asked which made John smile.  
\- Yes Sherlock I lovelove you. John looked on as Sherlock took the two steps it took to close the gap between them. He had pulled his chair back and risen without thinking about it. Sherlock stepped even closer, laying one hand on John's back and the other one gripping the nap of his neck. John tried to remember how to breathe but he found it difficult. First Sherlock kissed him in the same way they had kissed a few times now. Then he moved away, just an inch.  
\- Is this what you want?  
\- I want more, John replied without hesitation. Sherlock’s grip on John tightened, and then he kissed him again. But with force this time, letting John know what he had been holding back. John felt his mouth being forced open by Sherlock’s tongue, feel his teeth scrape against Sherlock’s as he leaned into the kiss. He stood on his toes for better reach. He gasped when Sherlock’s hands moved to pull at John’s sweater. His hands were hot on John’s skin. John couldn’t stifle a moan as Sherlock’s hands caressed his chest and back.  
\- Take it off, Sherlock demanded between kisses. John started to help Sherlock pull his sweater off. For a second he felt cold and exposed but then Sherlock’s hands were on him again. He was thinking they should move to the bedroom before things got further.  
\- Sherlock, should we... he was interrupted by Sherlock.  
\- John, if you’re not going to say “no” or “oh god, yes please more” then shut up. John realized that being bossed around like this by Sherlock was a big turn on so he did shut up and focused on the buttons of Sherlock’s shirt. He kissed Sherlock’s chest and grinned with satisfaction when Sherlock gasped for air. He didn’t have time to savour the feeling for soon Sherlock was pushing him down onto the kitchen chair. At the same time we was working at the fly on John's trousers, pulling them down. John could feel his pants going the same way. Sherlock fell down on his knees pushing John’s legs apart so he could get closer. It took a moment for John to realise what Sherlock was about to do.  
\- Sherlock, he said, pulling his fingers through Sherlock’s hair. Sherlock sat back on his heels, giving John the first chance to see him since they started kissing. He took John's breath away. Sherlock’s hair was in disarray, his cheeks were red and his lips were swollen. He was breathing hard, John could see his chest rising and falling with every breath and if he let his gaze fall he could see Sherlock’s erection straining in his trousers.  
\- Is it a no? Sherlock said, scrutinizing John.  
\- No, John said. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to say no to Sherlock when he looked at John with such want in his eyes.  
\- I just... John lost his train of thought as Sherlock started licking Johns cock.  
\- Oh god, he said as Sherlock put John’s erection into his mouth. He almost came from the sensation alone. His fingers grabbed the side of the chair and held tight. He could feel his orgasm building up fast.  
\- I’m close; he tried to warn Sherlock and got some murmurs as a response. But Sherlock didn’t stop or slow down. Just a few moments later John came in Sherlock’s mouth. John shouted, gripping the chair tighter so he didn’t fall off as the world spun around him. Like he was far away could he feel Sherlock releasing him, putting his head against John’s knee. Then John could hear a zipper being pulled down and soon he could hear Sherlock groan. All was still and quiet for a few moments. Then John opened his mouth.,  
\- That was amazing. Sherlock chuckled as he sat down, wiping his mouth. He tried to untangle his legs to get his trousers and pants of in a not so gracious move. In one way it made John feel even more affectionate. This was a Sherlock only he could see, sitting dishelmed and almost naked in his kitchen floor.  
\- Worth the wait, Sherlock said with a sheepish grin. John felt himself smile just as sheepishly.  
\- Just wait until I can get my hands on you properly, he said. Sherlock’s grin widened.  
\- Is that a promise? He asked. Then rose and planted a kiss on John’s lips.  
\- I need a shower, he said. He walked to the bathroom and opened the door. He stopped and turned to John.  
\- Interested in coming with? He asked. John just laughed and followed. He didn’t want to fill Sherlock’s ego anymore by saying he would follow the man to the moon if Sherlock asked.


End file.
